#you know this is helping me see what works and what doesn't work and what I have to go back and change

[psychemochanight]

Headcanon that Dick's siblings (-Tim, he knows everything) have no idea that he has a new job every time, and think he's still a cop.

Like Dick every time they mention his police job and he says "I'm not a cop anymore, I'm..." and he names something different every time, they think he's lying.

Jason: Isn't it ironic? One brother is a cop and the other is a crime lord.

Dick: Although I'm not a police officer anymore, I'm a gym teacher.

Jason, thinking he's being sarcastic: Yeah, and I'm not a crime lord anymore as well.

Dick: Good for you.

Damian: Richard, why aren't you in the office? I thought this was your working hours.

Dick, who went to pick up Damian from school: Now I work in the afternoon and at night, I am a bartender.

Damian, doesn't believe him because Dick is Nightwing at night: hm...

Steph, on the phone : Dick, do you think you can get me some reports from the office? There's a case here in Gotham and I think it's spread to Blüdhaven, they probably have them there in the records.

Dick: Steph, I haven't been a police officer for months, but I'll see if I can get through an ex-colleague for you. I'll call you later, I'm in the middle of a photo shoot.

Steph: ok, thank uuuu.

Steph, hanging up the call: If he didn't could help me right now he could say so, there was no need to make up that excuse.

Cass: He might be in an undercover job right now.

Steph: Maybe you're right.

Duke simply refuses to talk to him anymore because he still thinks he's a cop.

Tim: You've been in this job for two months, I think that's a record. Do you like it?

Dick, hanging upside down in the cave: Something like that? I just don't know what I want to do now and I don't want to be unemployed until I decide.

Tim: Hmm... I don't think you want to be in an office again, do you?

Dick: I'm not going back to WE, once was enough for a lifetime.

Tim: Fair enough. Can I at least ask you for a photo shoot for a season to promote the new line?

Dick: Sure, it was fun being a model for a while.

[ms-demeanor]

Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

[finding-flight]

This is honestly so bizarre, because while the Hero's Journey definitely has had an outsized influence on western literature, you don't even have to look very hard to find scads of examples where it doesn't apply, because the Hero's Journey is actually pretty narrowly defined.

There are definitions that get extremely nitty-gritty (including things like the hero refusing the call to adventure and then getting help to kick things off) but generally, the definition goes like this: Hero leaves home for the unfamiliar. Hero adapts to the unfamiliar. Hero goes back home. The End. ("Leaving" and "home" are often metaphorical, and "adapting" always means some sort of character development, although not always the kind we tend to think of--see Greek heroes who never work on their flaws because Greek heroes didn't have those, but who nonetheless become wiser.)

You know what immediately doesn't fit? Basically any serialized detective novel. Character development just doesn't happen to Sherlock Holmes or Nancy Drew, other than a sort of drift that has more to do with the maturation of the author than anything that happens to the character. There is absolutely no adaptation happening, and arguably, perhaps once you get past the first book, there is no leaving happening because they're "at home" solving mysteries.

Scratch the surface a bit more and you start seeing other holes. Frodo returns home a changed man, yes, but then he leaves again. A major theme of LoTR is that you can't ever really return home, because you've changed so much that where you started is not home anymore. Classic Hero's Journey generally has the characters wrestling with returning to normal life, but then they end up at peace. Frodo can't do that and has to leave again.

Then you get books where the narrative just kind of happens to the main character. Lizzy Bennett undergoes character development, but it's, like. Concerning one dude. Her overall worldview is never changed. She only leaves home (this being the metaphorical home of her identity as a Bennett sister, left for the new identity as a Darcy) at the very end, and of course never goes back to it (note here a very obvious bias towards male heroes; in any classic book ending in a marriage, the woman's world irrevocably changes, while the man's usually merely improves). You can probably wrangle Pride and Prejudice into an interpretation that fits the Hero's Journey, but I'd argue you'd be missing the point.

And don't even get me started on slice-of-life.

alright, I’m annoyed with the class that I’m taking. it’s about writing novels, and I thought it would have cool stuff about balancing your narrative and developing themes etc, but instead she spent the first class talking about how every book fits into the Hero’s Journey (the monomyth template). and I was somewhat of a contrarian, and said “can you give us examples of books that don’t fit into this template?” and she said “no. because all books fit.”

but I dunno man, I just finished reading this Korean book where the plot is just the character having a string of hookups and reflecting on them without changing in any way. I don’t know if it’s possible to contort that into the Hero’s Journey.

[unintentionalseductress]

this has been on my mind for a while the Lads with an aerial silk acrobat mc, that while they know that's she's an acrobat they have never seen her practice her speciality and 1 day they find her practicing it. If possible would love to see what you think they would be like when they see it (sfw or nsfw your pick)

Hey there! Thank you for your patience as I worked through my queue. Ok, aerial silk acrobatics is insane, Cirque Du Soleil always leaves me in awe.

Dancers of the Air

A/n: No warnings needed, mildly suggestive for Sylus maybe.

Zayne:

He watches you practice in silent admiration. He knows your livelihood depends on your ability to perform, so he's aware of how much effort you put into taking care of your body, but this is the first time he's seen the other side of it.

His mind starts to name the muscles needed for each move you make, realizing how much internal strength each one takes.

He's not the type to make his presence known. He waits till you're done and safe on the ground, then approaches you to tell you how impressed he is.

Rafayel:

He's an artist, and he appreciates all art forms including acrobatics.

When he sees you practicing it takes all his willpower to not shout out his admiration. He doesn't want to distract you though, but he will discreetly take pictures of you so he can see you like this whenever he wants.

Despite the safety net beneath you he can't help but feel nervous as he watches you suspended so high up on those silky sashes. This probably stems from his fear of heights.

Sylus:

He's a patron for the performing arts, giving generous donations regularly.

That's how he met you in fact, during a show. You stood out from the other performers and by the end of the night he couldn't resist asking for an introduction.

Your practice sessions leave him in awe of your flexibility and the coordination needed between your teammates. Unlike Zayne and Rafayel, he'll sit right in the middle of the stage, looking up at you encouragingly while you blush trying not to get distracted by his presence. He wonders if there's a way to get those sashes into the bedroom.

Caleb:

There's always a part of him that's going to worry for your safety despite the reassurances that many precautionary measures have been taken.

His heart hammers in his chest as he watches you flip through the air and are caught by another team member. But your fluid movements and graceful form leave him intrigued.

He likes making his presence known when you're practicing and he does it by using his evol. You'll feel the sudden lack of gravity as you float too high, then the sudden increase as he carefully brings you to the ground and into his arms. You roll your eyes but secretly love it.

Xavier:

Has his eyes glued to you the whole time. Can't bring himself to look away.

He'll do pretty cute things while you practice, maybe create some small fairy lights using his evol and have them hover and trail behind you with each movement. This is how he makes you aware that he's in the vicinity but he doesn't expect you to look for him. It's just his way of letting you know he's around.

He'll call you adorable names based on your profession - Moon Dancer, Sky Chaser, Cloud Ballerina. They might sound a little odd but you know he's doing it out of love.

[genderqueerdykes]

I still feel really iffy about transandrophobia (a bit less so after your explanation) but the main thing confusing me is why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny? It can’t really stem from misandry because misandry is systematically not a thing. I’m starting to understand it a bit but i’m still SUPER confused. I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

hello there. i hope i can explain things that help make sense of it a bit better. i appreciate you coming back to ask more. please note that i'm saying this to be productive and not to hurt your feelings or anything. i just need to point out some key things that i see repeated often in these conversations

it's not "believing" that transandrophobia exists, it is acknowledging that it exists. this is not a religion. this is much like gravity in that this form of oppression doesn't cease to exist just because someone doesn't believe in it. it's not like god, belief is not necessary. it will happen regardless of whether or not you believe it's happening

i really need you to understand that transmascs and trans men are PEOPLE above all else and talking over them and telling them they don't actually know what they're going through and need someone else to explain it for them is so fucking horrible. please don't do that to an entire group of people. transmascs and trans men ARE reliable narrators on their own lived experiences. why is it okay to freak the fuck out when trans men speak for trans women, but trans women are the only ones we can listen to when it comes to trans manhood? please consider how screwed up this double standard is. if you refuse to listen to trans men talk about trans womanhood, do the same when trans women talk like they know everything about trans manhood.

why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny?

because that's not what it refers to! trans men and transmascs experience misogyny but they're not using "transandrophobia" to mean "misogyny 2". it's specifically because they are trans MEN and nothing else. we did not reinvent misogyny, this is a specific experience that we face that people can learn about if they just listen to us talk about it!

transandrophobia is a specific type of transphobia that is directed towards trans men and mascs that is specifically directed at them because they are trans MEN and trans MASCS. it's NOT stock standard transphobia, transmascs & trans men are specifically being targeted because they are trans MEN. being told that you're "not a real man" because you're trans isn't misogyny. being told you're "not really a gay guy" because you're trans isn't misogyny. mocking trans men for not having deep enough voices or enough facial hair to pass isn't misogyny. telling trans men they're not real men because they don't have penises isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they like women's clothing isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they work in a female dominated field isn't misogyny.

mocking trans men who can't grow body hair for not "being real men" isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they have feminine interests isn't misogyny. telling them they're too short to be a man isn't misogyny. telling them their face or body isn't masculine enough to be a man isn't misogyny. trans men getting misgendered for their voices isn't misogyny. getting called a "tranny dyke" or a "cunt boy" when someone finds out a trans man is trans isn't misogyny... all of these things are transandrophobia. these no longer have anything to do with being perceived as a woman, these have to do with being perceived/attempting to be perceived as a man/masc.

trans men are affected by misogyny too, but it's not the same as transandrophobia. as a matter of fact, telling a trans man that they're experiencing misogyny when they aren't IS transandrophobia..

I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

i'm going to lay it down painfully easily for you, but when you say things like that, it really comes across as virtue signalling. i'm going to be blatantly honest with you here. it really sounds like you're trying to suck up to transfems for brownie points by saying trans men don't suffer any forms of oppression at all and that people who acknowledge that transandrophobia exist are mostly rude transmisogynistic assholes. you're participating in silencing trans men & transmascs for the sake of trying to look more Trans Friendly to transfems and trans women and we can see it for what it is. please stop. this isn't flattering. it scares transfems and trans women when you do this because we don't know when you'll turn that hatred, malice and ignorance toward us whenever the narrative shifts again. this does not make us feel safe around you.

acknowledging that transandrophobia exists doesn't mean someone is attacking trans women and trans fems. like i'm sick and tired of the "people who believe in transandrophobia are really mean to transfems" shit. it's not true! this is way over exaggerated for the sake of making trans men and mascs look bad. i cannot stress how much this is NOT true for every single person who acknowledges that transandrophobia exists. i have a lot of friends who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, trans men, transmascs, and all other kinds of genders, including trans women and transfems! you know how many of them are ACTUALLY rude to or attack trans women?

0. none. i'm not saying those people don't exist but they are NOT the norm. hell, there are literally trans women who acknowledge transandrophobia exist. the world is not as tiny as you've been made to feel it seems. there ARE shitty people out there who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, but it's not the norm. it's not the vast majority of us. we have to stop having this knee jerk reaction of "trans woman = defenseless pure cant ever hurt anyone constant victim always hurt by men no matter what the context is" and "trans man = evil because man subhuman deserves to die literally an attack to every and all trans women around them"

i would suggest actually reading the anons i get about transandrophobia if you want to learn more about it! please stop listening to people who AREN'T trans men and transmascs when it comes to what kinds of oppression they face. nobody else actually knows what they go through. please actually listen to THEM. it's not helping trans women by refusing to listen to literally every other kind of trans person. it's not alleviating trans women of the oppression we face to deny that other people can be oppressed, too.

also whether or not ppl wanna accept it, transmascs and trans men are human and you really, really do need to care about that. like genuinely. please just open your heart and care about transmascs and trans men in a way that doesn't involve throwing them under the bus to attempt to look better to transfems. it's not helping anyone. put your ego down for a good few hours and actually listen to other people- and yes, i really do mean more than just trans women. listening to trans women is great. we appreciate it. but stop silencing other people in order to do that. it's not necessary.

[siri-ike]

"Nightwing, report."

"He woke up again. He was much better physically, but he still didn't recognize anyone." Dick rattled off roboticly. "He tried to jump out the window, so I sedated him. Temperature's come down, and he hasn't thrown up or seized in 3 days. But-" He hesitated for a moment.

"But?"

"It's, ah, it seems that, he. Well, he -looks-, a, a bit, uhm, shorter. Than he was." Nightwing forced out. "I could just be mistaking. But, the first time I cleaned him, he had a few baby chest hairs, and now he's soft as a newborn. His cheeks also look a little bit fuller."

"..."

Bruce was right: Dick hadn't been sleeping, and it showed. He must just be seeing things. "How are things on your side?"

"The Fentons have been arrested, we found their other clones, they were, unviable." B's voice faltered, Dick guessed he had had to speed up their decomposition rather than let them die slowly. "We found their daughter, too. She's agreed to come back with us." At least there's some good news. "Still no lead on who the other cloning expert was. We're looking into all the Fentons' current and former friends with a science background." Batman sounded tired, too. They were supposed to have a hotel room, but Alfred wasn't there to force them to sleep. Not that Nightwing had any room to judge.

"Are there any Vlads on that list?"

"Yes, three." B responded.

"Danny keeps thinking someone named Vlad is taking care of him or holding him hostage or something. Start with those. And you better not be making Dami stay awake as long as you are."

"Copy." Click. Avoiding, out of all his brothers, Damian is surprisingly the best at keeping a healthy routine. But that all goes out the window whenever he falls for one of B's obsessions. Dick's been there, remembers what it's like.

"You ought to take your own advice."

Dick spun around from the batcomputer. "Alfred." He delighted. "You're back."

"Am I?" He sassed. "What a perfect excuse for you to take a break." He stepped closer. "Take a shower, I'll prepare some "fast food"." He joked. Alfred's version of "fast food" was food they could eat quickly and with little mess. Things like crustless sandwiches and baked buns.

Dick glanced back at the computer. He should stop. He knows he should stop. Just stop. But it felt like he was velcroed to the screen. He tore himself away and went with Alfred. It's this exact kind of work ethic he doesn't want for his brothers. It's too late for him, and it's definitely too late for Tim. Jason and Cass have separate problems. Steph seems to be 50/50. But he had such high hopes for Damian. And now there's Danny, who, from what he could tell, was already prone to overworking himself. "When he gets better, do you think he'll stay?" Groggily, Dick dared to ask. Alfred will be understanding. He always is. It was something Dick had tried most of his life to emulate.

"Ready to be a big brother again, master Dick?" He smiled proudly, yet teasingly.

"No."

Silence.

"If he had nowhere else to go, then ofcorse he can stay, but, every time he wakes up, he, sounds relieved. And he's always convinced he's with Vlad. Maybe Vlad is a comforting figure to him. Maybe he does have somewhere to go." He paused. "No one should live like us."

The air was heavy. Mostly with guilt.

"If the boy wants to go back, I'm certain he will do so. Whether or not we want him to. And I know you know that too. So what is this really about?" Hard to fool the original.

Dick's face went through seemingly every emotion before he spoke. "It hurts... I rub his back when he throws up, I change his sheets when he sweats through them, I make sure he gets all the nutrients he needs, but every time he sees me, he just gets scared. I'm worse than a stranger to him, I'm an intruder, sometimes a kidnapper. One time, he woke up, and he was so sure that I was keeping him there as a backup body. And, and every time I hear the monitor-. I dread going up there... I shouldn't think these things. He's sick. He needs help. It's not his fault. he's-"

"That doesn't mean you can't be frustrated." Alfred cut him off. "Emotions aren't right or wrong. They just are." He stopped infront of Dicks bedroom, and handed him a food bar. "Shower, sleep, in two hours, I will retrieve you for dinner."

Dick considered the door for a moment. "Could you check on Danny for me? He usually wakes up at 4:43 in the afternoon. He tends to have a better reaction if he's left alone for a while first."

"Duly noted."

Dick didn't bother showering. He went straight for his bed. Didn't even finish his food bar.

Alfred checked his pocket watch. 5pm on the dot. Well, he was already in the family wing. He made sure not to step in the ecto juice spot that keeps popping up where the opposite Danny keeps dying.

There was a list of possibilities Alfred expected to see upon entering Danny's room. At first, he thought he might have hidden, but the trail of wet footprints from the bathroom told him otherwise.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[jejewonster]

Milk and Cookies

do you like my cookies? they’re made just for you. 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

❁  pairing: chwe vernon x f.reader ❁  genre: friends to fucking, aphrodisiacs, smut (MDNI 18+) ❁  wc: 1.8k

— vernon doesn't know how badly you want him. hopefully the chocolates you bought will help him see you differently.

❁  smut tags/warning: DUBCON, buzzcut vern, aphrodisiac chocolate is used to coerce vernon, dryhumping, penetrative sex, creampie, thigh fucking?, choking, reader is manipulative, reader acts like vernon's sexual advances are unsolicited at first. ❁ a/n: read my guidlines. don't like don't read. block me if this isn't your cup of tea. vernon is meant to have a buzzcut but i couldn't find a good pic to make into a banner :( sry! thank you to @sunniques for beta reading ♡.

it’s not your fault that your best friend doesn’t realize how much you want to fuck him.

despite how many times you’ve tried to make it obvious how badly you’ve ached for him to give you what you need finally, none of your plans have worked in your favour. 

“hey, you ready?” vernon calls out for you. 

after clearing your mind from your depraved train of thoughts, you turn to him from your kitchen to smile back at his awaiting figure that’s sat on your couch. leaning against the headrest, his arms propped up against the cushions with his legs spread. 

it doesn’t help that he’s agreed to your remarks on how good a buzzcut would look on him. the lack of hair on his head is new and exciting, and you wish to feel the buzzed hair graze against your inner thighs. 

“yeah, just grabbing a few snacks. gimme a minute,” you smile, although you can feel the way it doesn’t fully reach your eyes. 

taking the box of chocolates from the fridge, you made sure not to forget the most important component of your plan. if anyone had found out about your idea, they would call you insane, but you couldn’t care less. 

you’re not accustomed to being denied what you need, or what you crave either. it’s not your fault you’re tastebuds have been tingling for someone as sweet as honey. 

staring down at the chocolate box in your hands, a smile begins to creep onto your face. vernon won’t be able to ignore the undeniable sexual attention after this. 

the aphrodisiac-filled candy is cold in your hands, but in a few hours, it’ll be a warm memory of tonight’s events. 

taking your designated spot beside vernon, you hand him the chocolate. 

“here have one, i got it the other day and thought we could try them together,” you nudge the box of confections towards him. 

“sure. these look expensive as fuck? where’d you get them?” 

shrugging your shoulders you act as nonchalant as you can, “nowhere special, just some place downtown.” 

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖ 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ ꒷ ࣪˖

vernon’s skin is scalding. he isn’t sure what the hell is wrong with him, but his body temperature has gotten higher with every passing second. there’s an ache in cock that he’s so desperate to release but there’s no way he’s going to be able to go to the bathroom with the situation he’s in. 

with you beside him on the couch, the two of you shifted into a position where you’re both lying down facing the TV. the sounds coming from the screen are nothing in comparison to the pulse that rings in his ears. 

one arm is placed securely around your waist, legs tangled along the cushions. you’re way too close. close enough that he can feel the way your tiny sleeping shorts leave nothing up to the imagination. the curve of your ass is pressed tightly against his growing erection. vernon is a hundred percent sure you can feel how hard he is right now, yet he’s still frozen in place, not wanting to reveal his dirty little secret even further. 

sneaking a peek at your face, your eyes are still trained on the movie, but vernon can’t handle it anymore. he needs to do something. anything. 

it’s like a shot to his chest, you squirm under his grasp and if he wasn’t so aware, a groan would’ve left his lips. instead, he sucks in a breath, doing everything in his power to create the smallest bit of distance between you. 

“hey, are you feeling warm?” he asks you, trying to distract himself from the way the blood is draining his body and rushing into his semi hard on.

“no, not really? are you okay?” you turn, eyes piercing into his soul. 

“a little bit,” he sighs, not realizing he’s been holding his breath this whole time. 

you stiffen up, and the smallest graze of your ass against him has his brain turning to mush. vernon is filled to the brim with confusion and frustration, and it’s even worse that he can’t seem to get an ounce of relief. not unless he wants to embarrass himself in front of the girl he’s been pining over for years. 

“i can go grab you some–v-vernon!” your sentence is cut off, vernon cannot have you standing up just to see how hard he is right now. 

“n-no it’s fine just–just stay where you are,” vernon breathes out. 

the look you give him is filled with confusion, but you do what he says anyways. 

“fine. let’s finish the movie first.” 

snuggling into him more, vernon’s breath hitches. self-control slipping away from his fingertips the more you situate yourself into a more comfortable position. he’s really starting to lose it now, whatever morals he had left were thrown out the window with his conscience. 

as if he’s being controlled by a puppeteer, his hips find themselves moving on their own. rutting into the crevice of your ass, the shorts bunching up to reveal the supple skin underneath. vernon’s brain is fogged with arousal and no matter how badly he feels for using you; the relief he’s receiving overrides every single one of the morals he’s set up for himself. 

“A-ah–vernon? w-what’s going on?” you whimper as he continues to grind into you. 

“i-i’m sorry. i really tried to ignore it, but shit, it feels so fucking good,” vernon groans from behind you. 

the nape of your neck is in front of him, and hides his face in it, not wanting to reveal the rosy blush sprawled on his cheeks. the friction between you two creates a tent to strain against his pants, his large hands move down towards your soft thighs. touching them with the softest of caresses, the heat of your skin radiates onto his palms. 

his fingers trailing up your skin, skipping the heat between your legs in favour of your breasts. the speed of his hips pick up and now both of his hands have you encased into his body. both of his palms grope at your tits over the thin fabric of your tank top. 

it’s as if he’s been put in a trance. no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop himself from defiling you. 

“i’m so sorry darling, i can’t stop,” he whimpers against you. 

“v-vernon, i’m not sure about this,” you speak up, but your ass is following his movements in tandem. pushing back against his hard member as he continues to grope you. 

“just give it to me, just this once. i’ll make it worth while darling,” vernon grunts against you. 

his hands move down once more, propping your thigh up to give himself access to where he needs you most. the other palm still tweaking your nipple, under your top this time. pointer finger and thumb rolling the sensitive nub till you’re putty in his hands. 

vernon’s attention moves back to your cunt, the thin piece of fabric from your shorts being the only thing in the way from touching you where it matters. if he knew any better, he would’ve thought you weren’t wearing panties for a reason. but the problem is, vernon isn’t thinking with his mind. his hard cock is making all his decisions for him. 

shifting the fabric aside, he is finally able to touch your bare pussy. your lips wet with arousal, slick and ready for him. he groans into your ear, peppering kisses along your neck as he rubs your clit. you moan against him, and he can practically feel you vibrating against his body. 

there’s a whine that leaves your lips as he recoils his fingers away from your hot cunt. 

shifting behind you, vernon frees his cock from his sweats. there’s a breath of relief between all the hot tension. finally. 

“you’re fucking soaking. tell me you don’t want this ‘cause i’m not stopping,” vernon groans, not even allowing you to answer back. 

he slips his dick between your slippery folds before forcing your thighs closed once again. the head of his length is bumping into your clit as vernon begins to hump into you sideways. 

“n-nonie, f-fuck, p-please,” you moan out between your pleas. 

“jesus christ, darling, tell me how good it feels,” he grunts into your ear once more. 

“your dick feels so good, a-ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, keep going please,” you beg him, synchronizing with his movements. 

vernon is drunk on lust. the sounds of your squelching pussy fill the room and the sound alone is dizzying. he picks up his pace, the coil in his abdomen starting to tighten. he wants to be inside you, he craves it. 

“keep those legs open for me baby,” vernon mumbles. 

your hand goes under your knee, propping your one thigh up. vernon shifts slightly, his pulsing cock in his palm as he lines himself up with your entrance. the tip slides against your wet pussy before his tip is shoved into your tight hole. 

you visibly tremble, and vernon thrusts up enough to bottom out inside you. the arm you're using to hold you up gives out, but vernon is quick to replace it with his own. slapping his hips into you, he holds your leg up to give him room to continue fucking you. 

“tightest pussy ever, holy fuck,” vernon practically drools. 

your walls are gummy, and so soft. the heat of your cunt engulfs the whole entirety of his cock. it motivates him to continue pistoning into you until his balls begin to squeeze. he knows he’s close but he doesn’t want it to end. as if he can go on for hours drowning into the heat of your tight pussy. 

“you fill me up so well,” you whimper, craning your neck to catch his lips. 

vernon kisses back, tongues tangling with one another as the two of you are practically eating each other faces off. you jolt with every thrust vernon gives you, the hand that was groping as your tit moves to grip your neck. fingers squeezing at the sides to cut off your airflow the slightest bit. 

the muffled moans that leave your lips are vernon’s breaking point. your pussy clenches around him the harder he squeezes your neck and it’s enough to send him over the edge. 

gasping into your mouth, vernon’s hips halt as he spurts his cum into your hole. the semen overflows and coats his cock with the mixture of your arousal and his own. 

“i’m sorry, you didn’t even cum yet,” vernon pants against your lips. 

“it’s fine. i’m not ready for this to be over yet anyways,” you breathe out, cheeks flushed. 

vernon looks into your eyes, the glint in your pupils unmissable. what the hell did you put in those chocolates?

❁ a/n: thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did hehe :3

[ckret2]

Bill's getting a makeover from Pacifica!! Yaaay

And what good will it do him?

Here's chapter 83 of human Bill Cipher being more of a prisoner in his body than in the Mystery Shack by this point: the shack's decided that the only possible thing that can save them from certain doom is getting Bill to flirt with a government agent, and Pacifica's recruited to help.

She does NOT know who her customer is.

####

"Folks, I'm not exaggerating when I say that out of all my duties as mayor, there's no greater honor than getting to host the county's annual Best Baby Ever Pageant and meeting all your beautiful and talented children. When I look in each young shape's bright little eye, and know that in this room are this county's future priests, police officers, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, maybe even the mayor of tomorrow... It gives me hope for the future." The mayor lowered his voice conspiratorially, "And it doesn't hurt that I get to declare it a city holiday and lock town hall's door for the day, either."

The parents in the audience chuckled appreciatively. Their children, who would have had the day off anyway and frankly found this a whole lot more work, mostly didn't.

"But all good things must come to an end, and we've reached the end of this year's competition." The mayor gestured to the contestants behind him, lined up in front of a temporary backdrop with a cheapy, shiny curtain. Most of the contestants were being held by a parent, but a few were old enough to fidget in front of the crowd all alone. "We've awarded all the individual prizes for each age bracket—which have gone to kids with any number of sides, with ages ranging everywhere from five years old to five hours old—and now all we have left is this year's grand prize!"

An enormous trophy waited to the mayor's side. It was plastic and hollow, but it was painted gold and taller than most of the children.

The mayor said, "And the winner of this year's Best Baby Ever award is... " Someone at the back of the hall played a pre-recorded drumroll through a tinny speaker. "The overall winner from the Age 0-6 Months category—Billy Cipher!"

Scalene let out a squeal of excitement that was audible over the applause. Bill startled awake in her arm and blinked sleepily around the room.

Several of the other parents on stage surreptitiously shot Scalene dirty looks—of course her kid had won, who could deny a newborn a prize on his birthday? It would be adorable. The judges had probably leaped at the opportunity.

Scalene shifted Bill in front of herself so the audience could see him better and so she could flash a hidden razor-sharp grin to a couple of her defeated rivals. That was exactly why she'd brought him today.

"Congratulations," the mayor said, placing a very tiny crown atop Bill. Bill endured this with patient, sleepy befuddlement. "Billy will be going home with the grand prize trophy and cash prize—as well as a full set of cutlery from our sponser, Knifeco Knives! But of course we'll hand that to mama to handle," he chuckled. "And the top winners from the other brackets will receive four-piece cutlery gift sets from Knifeco, which include—"

Scalene snatched the microphone from the mayor, jabbed him aside with one corner, and gushed to the crowd, "Thank you so much! I'm sure I'm speaking for my little Billy when I say just how grateful and honored he'll be when he's old enough to understand what a gift you've given him." She beamed out at the crowd, her flashy candy apple red makeup (she'd hastily slathered herself in side liner on her way to the pageant) drowning out every other shape on the stage—except for the naturally neon yellow infant in her arm. "As some of the pageant regulars—"

The mayor said, "Scalene, we didn't actually schedule time for the winners to make speeches—"

She sweetly whispered, "No one wants to hear about the sponsor, Otto," and pushed him aside. "As some of the pageant regulars here already know—I see you out there, hello!—I'm a pageant queen myself—(Miss Teen Curvy Strait three separate years!)—so, as a new mother, I'm so pleased that my little golden child is following in the family footsteps. I..."

The spotlights were blazing hot. She didn't understand how Bill—now wide awake again—could stare straight into the piercing lights without even blinking. Maybe he was blind; it would figure, considering what the afterbirth looked like.

Her knees were weak. Her sides screamed in pain. She shifted her grip to hold Bill more securely and to try to coax the sharpest spot of pain on that side to migrate to a fresh spot, shook off a wave of dizziness, and went on, "I hope that this is just the first of many future crowns for me—myyy sweet little Billy, ahem. I can promise you'll be seeing a lot of him in... in the..."

With a thud, she passed out and collapsed against the theater backdrop.

A nearby child squeaked in alarm.

"Scalene?!" Euclid was at the back of the audience, having snuck in during the closing ceremonies and hovered near the door where he could at least hear as the winners were announced. Now, as the mayor and several other pageant parents rushed to Scalene's side, he shoved his way through the crowd. "Move, that's my wife! Dang it, I told you to use your cane!"

One of the other mothers pulled out a copy of the program and fanned Scalene's eye. The mayor scooped up Bill and checked him for injuries. "Are you alright, little tri?"

Still too small to move himself, his eye darted in a panic to his mother's face, to the bright bright spotlights, to his mother again, to the blurry blue of his father buried deep in a sea of other shapes, to the mayor and the many strange faces crowded around him—and then he swallowed back his oversized eye to open his mouth and wail.

Which was the exact moment the stage curtain caught fire.

####

A bearded man with his hair done up in black liberty spikes and a spider web tattoo climbing up his left arm watched as Pacifica dumped several shopping bags of makeup onto her desk. "This visitor must be really important. You never pass up doing these guys' weekly grooming." He was sitting on the barn floor, brushing an alpaca with long, silky white hair.

"You have no idea." Pacifica stuffed the shopping bags in the wastebasket surreptitiously hidden under her far-too-big U-shaped executive desk, and quickly sorted the beauty supplies into their proper order of operations.

"Didn't you say it's Mabel and one of her friends? Mabel's here all the time."

"It's not just any friend, Spiderwebs!" Pacifica pulled a locket out of a desk drawer, ran over to Spiderwebs, and popped it open. "It's this friend! I've never met him before, all I know is that he has the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen. I have got to make a good first impression."

Spiderwebs and the alpaca inspected the locket's contents. He said, "You've never met him and you've got some of his hair in a locket?"

Pacifica flushed. "Th— Shut up!" She snapped the locket shut and stuffed it in a pocket. "I had the locket just lying around anyway, it's whatever."

At the sound of voices outside, Pacifica gasped. "They're here! Do I look okay?!"

Spiderwebs—whose entire outfit cost less than Pacifica's left sock and who quite frankly found the amount of makeup Pacifica wore concerning for a child her age—said, "Sure, fine."

"Great!" Pacifica bounced on the balls of her feet, squealed in excitement, and ran outside to greet Mabel and her friend. "Heyyy there! I'm Pacifica Northwest, it's so nice to meet—" She froze, "you..."

Before her stood a person with the most beautiful golden hair she'd ever seen.

Which was attached to a lady in a t-shirt, an eyepatch, a bedsheet, and cheap novelty slippers that look like fish. 

On top of that, the lady was mildly sunburned (obviously no moisturizer), wasn't wearing a bra, was leaning on an umbrella like a cane, clearly hadn't shaved in a while, had a very obvious fake tooth, had a weird bulgy eye, sort of smelled like fish (please don't let it be the slippers), and, to cap it all off, was fat.

Pacifica was working on herself. She was trying to unlearn the lessons about beauty she'd learned from her mom, and from the child pageant circuit, and from all her judgy friends, and from the modeling industry. She was slowly getting comfortable with the idea that physical beauty wasn't everything.

However. So far, that meant she'd been working on accepting ideas like it's okay if sometimes I'm an 8/10 instead of a 10/10. She had not yet tackled the far more daunting proposition of internalizing concepts like it's okay if sometimes other people are ugly.

Which was a problem, if she was going to give this person a makeover.

She swallowed hard and rearranged her expectations for the afternoon.

"Hey Pacifica!" Mabel beamed at her. "Thanks sooo much helping! This is Goldie, he's your customer. Goldie, this is Pacifica." Mabel gasped. "Giorgio, you're lookin' so fiiiine!" She ran into the barn to greet the alpaca Spiderwebs was grooming.

Leaving Pacifica outside with a stranger with a very creepy smile. Pacifica said, "Ummm..."

"The feeling's mutual, haha." On top of everything else, Goldie had a weird, nasally voice.

He, Mabel had said. "Hey, um," said Pacifica, who had never actually been in this position before and wasn't quite sure the polite way to handle it, "not to be rude, but... are you a guy, orrr...?"

"I'm whatever makes this conversation easiest. Don't overthink it!" He swept around Pacifica, hands clasped behind his back and around his umbrella, and sauntered into the barn. Which was kind of impressive, because fish-shaped slippers didn't seem designed for sauntering.

"So... guy?" Pacifica tried.

"For you? Sure," Goldie said indulgently. "Our target's expecting a lady, though, so—" Without turning toward Pacifica, he gestured up-and-down at his body. "Expect to femme this thing up."

Pacifica bit her lips as she swallowed down the most profound disappointment of her life so far, readjusted her expectations for the evening, and figured out what to say. She may not have unlearned the instinct to be shallowly judgmental, but she'd at least made progress on learning to keep it in her head. Most of it. Some—some of it. She'd keep some of it to herself. "Oh-kay. I don't know what Mabel told you, but—just so you know, I'm not running some charity barbershop for the homeless, all right? I'm a professional. I take looks seriously. I'm not going to soften the truth just because you're Mabel's friend, so—if you're not okay with that, you should just go home now."

He turned to glance at her, his trajectory curving to the side as he did; and suddenly she felt like a very small fish being circled by a hungry stingray. "Wow! You and Mabel both had to warn me! At this point, I'll be disappointed if you're polite." Goldie laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't expecting a barbershop." He used his umbrella to gesture around at the barn, "A barbershop would smell less like farm animals." He flipped up his eyepatch (he had a whole second eye under there?) so he could shoot Pacifica a sly sideways glance. "Maybe personality can make up for looks. Right?"

Pacifica's face flushed red. Personality can make up for looks was what Pacifica's mom said other moms told their ugly daughters when they entered pageants they had no shot of winning. "Hey, how dare you! Maybe this barn is an ugly salon—but it's a beautiful ranch!" She huffed, "Anyway, I didn't have a choice! I couldn't bring you home in front of my parents. You're better suited to the barn."

She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth—that was the kind of thing she was trying not to say to people as often—but Goldie's grin only widened. "Just do what you can with this flesh scarecrow I'm wearing, Alpaca. I know what beauty standards around here are like, I know what I look like, and I'm more apathetic about this body than you could possibly imagine. You won't hurt my feelings!" He flipped his eyepatch back down and glanced away from her, eye roving around the barn ceiling like a searchlight trying to find a stray bat. "Nobody goes to a coach because they're expecting to be told 'you're beautiful just the way you are'!"

A coach—like a pageant coach? He was making an awful lot of allusions to the pageant world. Just to make fun of her, or...? "You're lucky I'm not a coach. You couldn't afford my rates."

Goldie laughed. "You'd overcharge!" And then he ignored her, turning his attention to her one full-time employee. "Hey, Spiderwebs! So this is where you ended up! Workin' hard or hardly workin'?"

Spiderwebs looked up from the aplaca he was tending to to frown at Goldie. "Do I know you?"

"Know me? You picked a fight with me once!"

"Oh. Who won?"

"By the time I was finished with you, you were stone-cold unconscious!"

"That's probably why I don't remember it."

While Goldie was distracted talking to Spiderwebs, Pacifica knelt by Mabel—who was crouched to wrap her arms around Giorgio's neck and nuzzle him—and muttered, "Your friend's a major creep."

"What did he do," Mabel asked.

Pacifica thought. What did he do? Say he wouldn't be offended by brutal honesty? Tell her her barn smelled like a barn? "Nothing, it's just—the way he did it."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "We're working on his people skills." At least she didn't think Pacifica was crazy.

"Hey, does Goldie have any, like... beauty industry experience, that you know of?"

"His mom was a model," Mabel said. "And he did some stuff with beauty pageants?"

"Yeah? What kind of stuff?"

"Ummm..." Mabel grimaced uncertainly. "Tech... stuff...?" Okay, she clearly didn't have a clue. But that was what she'd wanted to know: yes, he was familiar with the pageant scene. She readjusted her expectations for the afternoon for the second time in as many minutes.

Apparently finished with Spiderwebs, Goldie called, "Anyway, I'm not trying to win ay supreme crowns!" Make that familiar with the pageant scene and wanted to make sure Pacifica knew that. "Just seduce some government agent who already thinks this is hot. You're lucky, we have an easy target!"

Mabel said, "This guy!" She unwrapped one arm from around Giorgio's neck to hold her phone out.

Pacifica took it. It was displaying a distinguished-looking middle-aged gentleman with a no-nonsense frown in a classy black suit. Her eyebrows went up. Ooh. The suit was kind of cheap, but it was well-tailored, which made a world of difference. Looked like he took care of himself, too. Definitely worked out. Too bad about the hair, but hey, Pacifica happened to know a great product that could help with that.

She put a hand on Mabel's arm. "I will help Goldie win his heart."

####

Bill hardly glanced around as Pacifica led them into her office; he was familiar with the space. By daylight, it looked less "rustic" and more "cutesy overpriced modern farmhouse." 

"I've got everything set up in my office," Pacifica said, coming in with Mabel behind her. There was indeed a wide variety of makeup supplies spread out on her desk. "But the makeup has to wait, we've got to start with your hair."

Bill fought back a cringe. "Don't want to save the best for last?"

"Always do your hair first," Pacifica said firmly. She ducked through a door into a bathroom connected to her office. "That's your first fashion lesson. You can't wash your hair with a face full of makeup. And trying to use a blow dryer or hair iron around your makeup makes you look like a melting wax figure."

"I've seen those in person," Mabel said. "Pacifica's right, that's not a cute look. Especially when the eyeballs start rolling out! Apparently, wax figures' eyeballs are made out of glass?"

Bill made a beeline for the corner where he knew Pacifica kept a folding chair and asked, "Hey, what happened to all those eyes, anyway?" Mabel always needed new arts and crafts supplies, and he bet those would be great for jewelry.

"We stuck them in a big jar." Mabel was lurking in the bathroom door, watching Pacifica. "They're still cursed, though. They turn to look at you when you walk by."

"Even better."

"I can see why the Pines family likes you," Pacifica grumbled.

Bill could think of three Pines who would heartily disagree with that claim. "Oh, please! They can only wish they were half as weird as me." He set up the folding chair in the open space in front of Pacifica's desk—then froze. Huh.

Bill knew lots of things. He had trillions of eyes. He was used to walking into rooms and just knowing what was in them.

Except this room hadn't existed when he'd had all his eyes. It had been built after his death. So why did he already know what it looked like? How had he known where to find a folding chair?

He shut his eyes, trying to work through the déjà vu to picture what angle he'd seen the room at before, and where his eye must have been in order for him to see it; and then he looked at the wall beside the desk. There were several flat glass cases against the wall with alpaca wool goods sealed inside—a scarf, a sweater... He stared at his own face in the middle of a tapestry of his zodiac, preserved like a hunting trophy in a case labeled "First Blanket." Huh. It wasn't some local hick's den after all. Just a local rich girl roleplaying at being a hick.

He studied his true face for a long moment—and then cast a resentful look at the desk covered in makeup, in shades of beige and red. What would any of this sludge do for him? He'd be just as ugly at the end of it.

But Bill wasn't getting a makeover to look beautiful. He was getting it to seduce a human. And those were two diametrically opposed goals.

He missed his face so much.

"It's not illegal," Pacifica said.

Bill gave her a baffled look. "What?"

She pointed at the blanket, "It's not illegal to display a picture of the triangle guy as long as it's got that ring of symbols around it. It, like, repels him or something."

"Oh, does it," Bill said dryly. "It takes the evil eye to avert the evil eye, huh? Hey, maybe I should get one of these! Whaddaya think, Mabel?"

"I already told you I'm not making another!"

"But how am I gonna repel the triangle guy?" he asked, grinning impishly. "What if I'm in danger! The triangle guy could get me! Wouldn't that be terrible?"

"Knock it off! You already stole Soos's."

He expected Pacifica to come back from the bathroom with a brush or something; instead, she held up a spray bottle and said, "Okay, come in—and bring the chair." Bill's heart sank. "We're gonna have to rinse your hair in my sink, sorry."

Bill suppressed a sigh. "It's not the worst thing I've ever done to this hair!" He picked up the chair to carry into the next room.

"All I can do for now is rinse your hair. I don't have any shampoo for your hair texture because I did not think the situation was going to be this dire. No offense," Pacifica said. "You'll have to shampoo at home. You got the hair product samples I sent to the Mystery Shack, right? Were you able to order the full products? I don't know what your budget looks like."

"Don't worry about it, I still have the leftovers from the samples."

He watched in glee as Pacifica died a little on the inside. "Th— Those were one use sample sizes. It's been a month, how do you still have leftovers."

In truth, Pacifica severely overestimated the amount of hair product needed to keep hair clean; but on the other hand Bill was deliberately showering as little as he thought he could get away with and making up the difference in the downstairs half bath sink, so he didn't think smugly flaunting that he technically knew more about minimum human hygiene requirements than she did would make him look as cool and knowledgable as he wanted it to. "Don't worry about it!"

Bill cast one last longing look toward his true face; and then he followed the humans into the restroom to let them reorganize his stupid human hair.

####

"This is just a temporary measure," Pacifica warned as she dunked a few more of Goldie's curls in the sink. "You have got to take a real shower before your date. You literally smell like fish."

"What kind of fish?" Goldie immediately asked. "Is it salmon? If it's salmon I can work with that."

Sitting on the closed toilet lid, Mabel let out a long-suffering sigh; and Pacifica got the horrifying impression that this was an ongoing conversation.

"It... I don't... know what kind of fish."

Mabel said, "It's probably just the trout guts from yesterday." What the heck was life like in poor people's homes?

In Pacifica's opinion, Goldie's hair was both his biggest asset and his worst disaster area. It was that beautiful, natural, curly gold, like something out of a fairy tale; but it was nightmarishly tangled and there was literal sand in it, and he'd clearly used conditioner at some point in the last few days but he hadn't fully washed it out and it just made more sand stick.

Goldie was sitting in the folding chair with one arm rested on the lip of the sink and his cheek resting on his arm. Pacifica had to alternate between soaking his hair under the faucet and trying to gently untangle it, inch by inch, with a comb. To his credit, he patiently endured it without making a word of complaint, even though both the positioning and the manhandling had to be uncomfortable. 

But he'd turned his face away from Pacifica and Mabel as much as he could from his awkward position; and whenever Pacifica moved to an angle that let her glimpse a bit of his face, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was pressed thin in a grimace. The hand resting on the sink's lip had clenched into a fist, and his other hand was digging its (badly painted) fingernails into his thigh through his bedsheet skirt.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"I'll give it three out of five stars," Goldie said, "but if you want a lower score, I can try to find a worse angle for my neck!" He kept as much tension out of his voice as he could; but now that Pacifica had noticed it, she could tell his voice was a bit flattened.

"Never mind," she said. "No offense, but—when's the last time you combed this?" She'd been saying no offense a lot.

Mabel asked, "Have you done it since I brushed your hair at the sleepover?" He had Mabel doing his hair?

Goldie made a noncommittal noise. "I've washed it since then." 

"That's not the same," Mabel said.

"You've washed it?" Pacifica asked skeptically. "Because you look like you've been sleeping in mud." She'd found a few flecks deep in his thick curls.

"Okay, in my defense," Goldie said, "it was just garden-variety heavy metal-enriched local dirt when I went to sleep. It only turned into mud while I was unconscious."

Pacifica stopped combing and leaned over to stare at Goldie, speechless.

With an air of affronted dignity, he said, "It wasn't my idea. I wanted to be indoors."

"Goldie's been having a really bad week," Mabel said.

"I've been having a really bad month," Goldie said.

Mabel asked, "Haven't you had a shower since you got home, though?"

There was a pause. Goldie muttered, "Yeah, but—it's hard to get through all that hair." (The worst part was, Pacifica thought he was telling the truth. The fact that she'd found mud so deep meant he must have washed the majority off the outer layers of his hair.) "I—I've been—tired, okay?"

He had that air of impatient irritation that suggested he was embarrassed, but trying to hide it because he was embarrassed of being embarrassed. Strange from Mr. Apathetic About His Body to be self-conscious. Why? Did he not know how to take care of his hair? (Maybe if he'd properly used the samples she'd sent him...)

But Pacifica thought back to Mabel showing her a lock of his hair at the beginning of summer—and the liquified roots, melted off. That wasn't an accident. Whatever depilatory cream he'd used had to sit there on the roots, it wasn't like he'd just grabbed the wrong product by accident. There was something more than ignorance going on here. Self-sabotage? But if it was intentional, why would he be embarrassed?

She could call him out, interrogate him for it—hey, she was supposed to be his style consultant, she needed to know what was going on—but if he was already getting defensive, he'd just clam up if he thought he was really under attack. Her mom got the same way when she was getting cagey about something and Pacifica was trying to figure out why. So she switched her focus. "Mabel—did you say you brushed his hair?"

"Yeah?"

"You meant 'combed his hair,' right?"

"No, I brushed it," Mabel said.

Pacifica stared at her. "Why."

Mabel stared back. "Because... combs are for short guy hair and for parting your hair? And Goldie doesn't have a part?"

Pacifica looked down at the big ball of frizzy curls that made up the bottom half of Mabel's hair and suddenly understood so much. "Oh, hon." What were her parents like. What did their hair look like. "You're supposed to comb natural curls. And only when they're wet, if you can help it."

"What. Why."

"It keeps the curls together," Goldie said, "instead of separating them all into separate strands."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Wait, that's the secret?! I thought that's what expensive shampoos are for!"

"The expensive shampoos make it worse," he cheerfully informed her. He'd brushed Pacifica off and sat up, chin in hand and hair dripping over his shoulders, so he could talk to Mabel. "It strips off the grease your pores naturally excrete to lube up your hair and replaces it with manmade grease! Which is why your hair dries out when you stop using the fancy shampoo. It's a big scam!"

Mabel stared at him in shock; then asked, hesitantly, "My strawberry shampoo?"

"A dirty traitor," Goldie said. "It's one of those toxic friends that manipulates you into depending on them and then tells you you're nothing without their help! There's half a dozen chemicals you wanna avoid in shampoo—I don't remember all their names but I can draw their chemical structures, Sixer can translate 'em into English for you."

"What else am I doing wrong?"

"You shampoo your hair too often," Goldie said. "And blow dry it. Which is fine if you want to keep that dry frizz! But somehow I don't think you do!"

Okay—so he clearly did understand curly hair care. (Or at least, he understood it as much as Pacifica, whose knowledge came entirely from reading magazine articles that technically weren't aimed at her.) Then why didn't he do it?

Mabel dragged her hands down her face. "So all this time, I've been messing up your hair too? Goldiiie, why didn't you say anything!"

"I didn't really care!"

Pacifica said, "Okay no, I am not standing for this. Goldie, out. Mabel, sink. It's some kind of crime for me to know more about curly hair than you do. I'm showing you how to do this the right way."

Goldie sighed in relief and escaped as Pacifica subjected Mabel's hair to the faucet and comb.

####

(Here's this week's What Was Edited Due To TBOB summary: the pageant scene itself was already planned, but obviously, all the details—it's the day he was born, the mayor's there handing out knives and declaring it a holiday—came from the info we get on Bill's history via TBOB. Finding a way to make the knives make sense was fun. Nothing major in the rest of the chapter was changed.

Hope you enjoyed! Next week is more Pacifica!)

[thewisedoge]

Jim Carrey's performance as Gerald Robotnik. (A short analysis)

After like a month of Sonic 3 being out and seeing all the love that everyone is throwing at it. (Including me)

I think we're overlooking how good of an actor Jim Carrey really is in it... Specifically with how he played Gerald.

I think the big part of why I think his performance worked so well was the buildup to the reveal of his true intentions and what he really thinks about Ivo as a grandson.

Once they're at the ARK and arrive at the Eclipse Cannon... You can't help but notice the classic Jim Carrey snark and insanity in his voice... is gone. Not only that, if you look closely at how he acts, his entire demeanor has changed.

Specifically you can notice this when the ARK is released and starts rising up into space, Ivo raises his hand for a high five, y'know from his good old grand genome. But... Gerald doesn't notice or is outright ignoring it.

I know this scene is mainly played for laughs but I really think it was smart to have Gerald become cold hearted and stone faced once he's SO CLOSE to achieving his goal. To avenging his dear granddaughter.

Now throughout the films its basically a big joke that the Eggmen is basically insane. Not only that, they're both AWARE they're insane. But in those films it felt more like an obligation for both Eggman's character and the fact he's played by Jim Carrey.

But once Gerald reveals the true power of the Eclipse Cannon and what he plans to do with it. Even EGGMAN of all people is shocked.

I mean, look at the stark contrast of expression between the two.

DOES THIS LOOKS LIKE THE FACE OF SOMEONE WHO IS OKAY WITH THE EVENTS THAT ARE UNFOLDING?

It's a running theme in the games that Eggman wants to rule the world, not destroy it, so it's really cool to see them adapt that into the film as well.

Speaking of adapting things from the games. It's very well known that this game is based on Sonic Adventure 2. But what I didn't expect them to do was to adapt a lore detail that was introduced in the RECENT games... and that is the extra depth added to Eggman.

In Sonic Frontiers, it's revealed in one of the many Egg Memos you can buy from the fishing minigame that once Maria was killed by the GUN soldier on the arc, everyone was mourning the loss of her life... Neglecting young Ivo in the process.

Now I know the Sonic fandom is divided on Ian Flynn as a writer for the franchise, but this has got to be one of the funniest but saddest things he's written for a character.

Like, it'd be natural to assume a character like Eggman to have daddy issues, but if you made it work alongside but emphasizing the sheer weight and impact of another one of the saddest moments in the series. It's really good writing.

In the movie, they basically take inspiration from this and adapt it to work with Gerald's villainous breakdown. Not only that. They casually just write one of the most heartbreaking and shocking scenes to come out of these movies.

It's kind of hard to explain so I'll just write it out using screencaps from the scene lol.

"WHAT!?!"

(laughing) "WE CAN'T ANNIHILATE THE EARTH!"

(this reaction shot SEALS it. It's like Gerald's admiring that despite his grandson's intellect. He's still incredibly naive and blinded by sentiment.)

"By combining our genus we can rule humanity! Together!"

"Humanity is a failed experiment! If anyone should know that it's you."

"All your life you've been rejected by this world. You have nothing down there. No one who cares about you."

"..." "... But I have you now."

"..." "... We're family. We have each other!"

"Oh Ivo..."

(Once again I have to praise Jim Carrey's acting in this scene. Look at the body language, how his eyes move. He looks at Ivo up and down... As if he's reminiscing. Stuck between that state utter comparison and grief. Standing in front of him is someone of his own flesh and blood. Someone who loves him... But Gerald is too overcome by his own insanity, grief and hatred towards humanity. He can't see that anymore. All he can see anytime he looks at Ivo... is her. So he then utters. By far the best line in the movie.)

"You're no Maria."

I mean...

LOOK. AT HIS FACE.

LOOK AT IT!!

Imagine being Ivo in this moment, after years of being neglected, belittled and bullied by schoolmates. You finally find someone who seems at first to genuinely care about you... Only to find out he... Was just like everyone else.

"The moment I lost her my family was GONE FOREVER."

Okay, my one big criticism with this movie is the fact Gerald doesn't see Shadow like a son to him. I can see why they made Gerald the big bad of the movie so Shadow could come back in future installments as a protagonist. So I guess Gerald having to be a manipulative POS will have to do.

"The only way to give Maria's life meaning is to destroy the world that took her from me!"

"SO I'M BURNING IT ALL DOWN!!!"

It's criminal how most of the criticism and the division on this movie comes from the amount of Eggman shenanigans in it. But I can't help but love it since the emotional core becomes strong near the end and has been built up between the love fans have for Eggman in the movies and it was interesting seeing an Eggman centered character arc of him having to choose between blood family or... uh.

His boyfriend. I'm sorry.

There's literally no other term for a relationship like this. "Henchman" my ass. THEY SWAPPED SALIVA I JUST KNOW IT.

Anyway. Yeah. Sonic 3 is really good not just from a game accurate or a fan pleasing perspective, but from a writing perspective as well. Jim Carry as Gerald needs more recognition.

[winchestergirl2]

Dean

First, I just have to say I love your choice of gif for Dean!

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

I absolutely see this!

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Oh Dean 😆 in trouble, and he doesn't even realise it yet... although Sam does!

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

I like the way she thinks

Beau

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

Perfectly captured Beau here.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

I can absolutely see him observing to begin with, but stepping in the moment, he thinks they've overstepped the mark.

Oh wow, the audacity of that woman!! Wiping the chocolate away like that!

I could 100% picture Beau and his reaction to all of this!

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

I would absolutely forgive him and melt with him doing this!

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Absolutely 😉

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Those men flirting with her really are dicing with death. Good job she has worked out how to cut it off before Ben gets involved. She's really out there saving lives, and they probably don't even realise it.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

Haha, of course he does!

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

So Ben, like. Doesn't bother with apologising like the others just goes straight in there.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

100%

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

I am a suckered for a man doing this. A subtle way to let the other guy know.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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[mindless-existence1]

Jjk men headcannons- Sfw and Nsfw

Includes: Geto, Gojo, Toji, and Nanami

Authors note: This is probobly the last thing I'm going to be able to make before my broken arm gets put in a sling so enjoy it chat!

Sfw

Ive said this before but Gojo spoils tf out of his partner. He has money what is he using it for besides you? Really likes sweets so sometimes he buys candy for you just so he has an excuse to by some for himself. Same other snacks, he'll say they're for you but he's the one eating over half the bag.

Geto has some crazy Insomnia and the only way for him to sleep is if he's cuddling you. It makes him fall asleep so fast. Spooning turns off his brain like a lightswitch. Something about physical contact with his loved one makes him feel content.

Nanami is the definition of a gentleman. We know this already, but it's the little things. He pulls out your chairs, he opens your car door (going as far as pushing you back into the car so he can open it for you if you already did). He also will hold your waist so your close to him in crowded places.

Toji, tho he hates electronics, would answer you no matter what. In the middle of a mission? He's answering with a "Hey there doll" (he'd call you doll I've said it once I'll say it again). He'd never text or call you first during a mission but if you contact him he's picking up the phone and you wouldn't even be able to tell he was on call.

Gojo likes seeing yiu wear his glasses. He'll let you have them on when he's wearing his blindfold and he goes crazy. He'll say something like "they look better on me" but in reality he's using six eyes to get a veiw of you from other angels.

Geto is kinda like this but it's with shirts. He's a baggy shirt wearer trust so seeing you in one makes him border line feral. It's like your covered in him and that's qhat he wants. He likes the thought that when you wear them when he's not there it's kinda like he is.

Nanami is a listener so if you're yapper he's the one for you. He'll listen to anything and everything. He has some tough days at his job and hearing you randomly call him after a hard meeting just to tell him about the dog you saw on your walk today brightens his day.

Toji doesn't like seeing you work. And not in like any sort of sexist or "I'm better than you" way. Just a "I'm right her I should do it not my god/goddess of a partner". He just doesn't want to let you lift a finger when he's right there and able. You have pick up the table, he's got it. You spilled some water, pet him wipe it up. Anything.

Nsfw

Gojo is a FREAK he will try basically anything at least once. If you're into it or want to try it almost 100% of the time he's down. Especially if in involves you being dominated because despite what he says he's a switch that likes bottoming more.

Geto likes when you pull at his hair. I'm talking yanking it, his scalp is sensitive and it makes his head go all fuzzy. When he's giving you head/eating you out he gets off on you pulling his hair alone. He'd rut his hips intoanuthung he could when yiu tug a particularly sensitive spot.

Nanami lives to serve. Although most times he's on top he's doing what you tell him to do. Kinda vanilla but not in a bad way. He'd try stuff out if you asked but nothing too freaky. Likes missionary so he can see you perfectly.

Toji is a pain lover. Both giving and receiving. It's the way the pain mixes with pleasure that gets him going. But seeing you wither and shake from the intense mix of pleasure and pain makes him get dizzy with lust. This sight is so pretty and he can't help but tease you more at the veiw.

Gojo would use 6 eyes to see the two of you while you're fucking. Your ontop of him and he can't lift his head from the pleasure to see you so he uses the last of his strength to activate 6 eyes and get all the different angles.( I heard someone say his eyes glow bright blue when he's using his technique so imagine you look up at him and he barley opens his eyes and you just see the bright blue gleaming down at you.)

Geto is a bit of a risk taker. Nothing crazy but he'd be open for some different places to be added on the lists of places to get freaky. Maybe it's am old Jujustu Tech classroom. Maybe he fucks you there while people are still taking classes and he has to put a hand over your mother to keep you quiet.

Nanami would whisper sweet nothings in yiur ear. You can't even hear what he's saying over the intense shocks of pleasure but none the less his voice goes to your cloudy head and all you can do is moan in response to the praise.

Toji would fuck you infront of a mirror. He just loves doggy and want you to see how pretty you look. He'd also want to see you so it'd very self indulgent. He just really enjoys watching in live time how your face reacts to the intense pleasure.

[littlemissmanga]

Unwind With Me

Pairing: Crosshair x (gn)Reader

W/C: 538

Summary: You're at your limit with your job. But luckily, Crosshair is an unlikely source of comfort.

Warnings: Some talk of work stress, but the focus is on the very indulgent comfort.

A/N: HELLO TUMBLR!!

It has been a long time since I posted, but I am finally writing again. Thank you for your patience. And I'll ask for a little more. I'm writing again, but I am taking things slow to avoid overextending myself.

So I figure I'd start with a warm, comforting Crosshair fic. This was what I fixated on to get over my own work stress this week. So I hope you find it helpful, too!

It's been a long day.

No, it's been a long year.

Just a million different moments spread across each day that began to stockpile in the pit of your stomach. Stress building like bile until the thought of another rotation made you nauseous.

"Just quit."

The voice may have been rough, the tone dismissive. But you knew Crosshair only said it out of concern.

You could see it in the way he hovered. Hear it in the gruff clearing of his throat as he refilled your water again and again.

He didn't like problems he couldn't solve. And your toxic job was top of that list.

"You know why I can't, Cross," you sigh as you settle further into the couch. Your apartment was small, but you do what you can to make it cozy. Usually. Lately you've slacked when tidying up. Another worry for the pile.

"Excuses."

He tosses the towel used to dry the dishes from dinner before joining you. Without asking, he pulls you from your nest into his lap as he moves to take your seat.

The moment his arms lock around you, your body melts. Not fully. Not enough to fix anything. But just enough to take the edge of.

Somehow, that is sweeter than anything else you could imagine right now.

"No, it's reality. I pull in a decent paycheck and I'll never be fired. Those are invaluable benefits. Besides, every job has office politics and dumbasses in charge."

He huffs and tucks your head under his chin, curling around you. You're so glad he finally got over himself and let you get close. Crosshair was so touch starved his craving for physical reassurance was higher than yours.

Thank goodness, too. It was selfish, but knowing he needed you even when you felt like such a failure gives you strength.

"You're hurting yourself," he rasps.

"I can take it." Your voice doesn't waiver, but a current of uncertainty shocks you. You can ... but it leaves you so tired. You feel like a shell of yourself most days.

"You're strong. But you don't gotta prove it."

You feel his lips brush against your hair. He liked burying his face into you. It made you smile every time. You return the favor, shifting in his arms to press into his chest.

"Nothing to do about it now. Just ..." You trail off and press a kiss to his collarbone. "Can we just say like this until I feel better?"

He doesn't answer you. Crosshair only reaches over to grab the remote for the holoprojector.

He puts on your latest favorite drama. Something to get swept away watching. Something perfectly distracting to occupy your mind as the soft warmth of Crosshair's body against your own relaxed your muscles.

Eventually, you feel yourself begin to drift off. You resist, unwilling to sacrifice any time with Cross before he has to leave again. But you can't fight the overwhelm of comfort he brings you. And he wouldn't want you to.

You're lucky enough to feel his cool lips press against your forehead before sleep claims you.

No matter what you have to face tomorrow, you know his warmth will be there to welcome you home after.

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[moonlight-fox]

I'm not an AO3 author. I had a few things up on ff.net way back in the days of "before AO3 was a thing" but most of the fiction I've written isn't on any such sites (mainly because the formatting for them is pretty specific and I'm not sure sites designed to host prose would work with it, though there are some prose works within them and stuff that bounces between prose and the more bespoke format, but also "a lot of my prose is original amateur fiction and I don't think AO3 allows that?" People sometimes indicate it does but whenever I look at the TOS it doesn't, though it also has a really weird boundary on what is and what isn't 'fanfic' to me so I'm just left unclear on some of my writing if it would be appropriate to AO3 or not so I just... Don't...)

What that ultimately means, though, is that for the majority of my writing? I'm yelling into barely more than a void. Back in the 2001-2004 period I used to joke about having an audience of 2. I haven't been able to make those jokes about my 2022-2024 stuff (but some might be bots) because NeoCities actually has something resembling analytics for free acounts in a way GeoCities did not. And I sometimes got feedback via the forum that was setup back in the day, and sometimes the person who was letting people know which of the 20 or so of us who were working in this nanogenre had updated that week did a bit of praise to try and entice others to read those things. And the amount of feedback I've gotten went down in the 2022-2024 stuff.

The attitude I sometimes see on the peripherary of "If you don't leave kudos or comments your writers will abandon you, fanfic authors rely on seretonin" is such a weird reason for writing to me, completely alien to my experience of putting my writing up online. If I was looking for external gratification I'd be doing literally anything else. I'm writing because I enjoy writing. My target audience is, and always will be, exactly one person - myself. If others happen to enjoy it, that's bonus.

And I just... Can't get my head around why you'd be putting in that much work - I've heard about AO3 author curses and how dedicated folk on there are to Maintaining A Schedule and having just come off of a one installment a week for schedule for 3 years (plus three weeks where I went one a day for, spread out throughout the project) - for anything else?

All in all, I can't help but wonder if AO3's comment and kudos system has accidentally gamified writing for some people, with all the drawbacks extrinsic rewards has to people otherwise intrinsicly motivated to do something.

(Though back on FF.net I did get a "This is the most disturbing thing I've ever read" comment on one of my works which... I don't know if it was intended as a compliment or not but it means I hit the tone I was aiming for for at least one person.)

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From Trust

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about what is preventing you from trusting others including yourself.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek for professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement. Only a private reading can give you a more tailored answer to your questions.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture(s) that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

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Pile l:

What is preventing me from trusting others including myself? Tarot: Six of Swords, Ten of Swords, Seven of Wands, The Hermit, Everything is Fine, Nine of Swords

Abandonment issues. Something happened in your life to where you believe that everyone who enters your life is doomed to leave and for most of you, you tend to drive people away first before they even have the chance to leave while at the same time be sadden by your loneliness because you feel no one wants to be around you or even stay. When people do leave you overthink and go down a spiral thinking about the many things wrong with you when really there is nothing wrong with you at all, sometimes people leave and that's okay but it doesn't mean that something was wrong with you. It's actually the complete opposite. Others of you have been hurt so badly that you don't allow anyone in, you are probably that friend where it takes 3+ years just to know anything other than basic knowledge about you and even then sometimes your friends will try to get you to open up more even though you prefer to be the friend who is always there for others versus the other way around because again of this abandonment issue or because you feel no one really cares when really that's the farthest thing from the truth. You will never know love if you keep pushing people away from you because you fear of them walking away and even if someone does walk away it's not the end of the world. It may feel that way sometimes but everything as your card states is fine.

How to begin trusting others again? Tarot: Same Cards

Letting your guard down and accepting the outcome of what life brings. Accepting that people come and go and it has nothing to do with you. Accepting that you are amazing and those who choose to leave are missing out on the love and beautiful energy that you provide. Letting people in so they can show you that they do care and want to be there for you and are not there to pity you but because they want to see you succeed, thrive and most importantly they want to know you...the real you and not the sheltered mask version of yourself that you give others. Trust people not to hurt you, and read the signs so you know when to call a spade, a spade. If someone is not putting in the same amount or not even close enough effort to make you feel seen or loved it is okay to let them go but if someone is putting in the effort to get to know you and shows up in a way that you feel loved, please embrace it and don't shut down to push them away. You deserve to experience this kind of love and support in your life.

What good can come from trusting again? Oracle Cards: Truth, Confidence, Transformation, Love

For some of you, your abandonment issues stem from previous lovers while for others it's just friends or possibly both. Learning and deciding to trust again will open so many doors for you when it comes to love as well as who you are as a person. Some of you will rediscover who you are as a person because you have such a high wall up to the point you sometimes feel as if you don't know yourself. This will change once you begin trusting people again and doing the work to release this abandonment issue. Your confidence will also skyrocket along with seeing that the world indeed does not end when someone leaves as well as seeing that there is nothing wrong with you.

Pile ll:

What is preventing me from trusting others including myself? Tarot: Eight of Swords, Seven of Swords, Two of Swords, Eight of Cups, Knight of Cups

Self Sabotage. In the past or maybe even currently you tend to not want to see red flags in others to the point relationships or even friendships tend to drag on far too long until you get to the point of being tired and finally moving on. You tend to attract and go towards people who are not good for you whether they are just overall toxic, manipulative, narcissistic, or what have you. The people you tend to keep around you are never good and just a few of you if this is mostly romantic you tend to keep going back for them hoping that when you return to them that things will change when nothing has changed. A lot of the people who tend to be in your life loves to hand you an empty cup but the thing about that empty cup is because you have dealt with their lack of loving you properly the fact that they even brought something makes you giddy because it's the thought that counts. Unfortunately, all of these issues has led you to have trust issues. You don't trust yourself enough to see the good or the bad in people to the point anytime someone shows even one flaw or an ounce of drama you leave because you have been down this road before and never want to go back. You are done with the empty cups and lack of reciprocal energy from others, now anyone who breathes wrong you send them to the left packing even if they are a good person and loves you properly, you can't risk them proving you wrong.

How to begin trusting others again? Tarot: Same Cards

Learning to trust your intuition. Learn to have discernment that when something doesn't feel good, right, or doesn't make you feel loved it's time to move on. Know it's okay to extend grace when the issues that are happening are a human error and not a character flaw. Anything that is a character flaw (narcissism, manipulating, lack of concern for you, etc) should not be tolerated whereas human flaws like (things that most of everyone does from time to time and they own up to it) are okay because at the end of the day we are all human and sometimes make a mistake. Being cruel, mean, etc is not a mistake and is very much intentional and this is behavior to move away from.

What good can come from trusting again? Oracle Cards: Grieving, Forgiveness, Clarity, Compassion

Because of your past or even current reality for some of you, you have lacked compassion for yourself and possibly even fallen into a deep depression when you think about the times you let someone treat you horribly or even less than what you have deserved. Once you begin to heal this, you will begin to show yourself more compassion as you now know what to accept and what not to. You will also know that what you didn't know before you now know to do better and continue to do better while showing the old you compassion, for what you lacked. You will also forgive others if not yourself again for the treatment that they have given you and forgiveness towards yourself. Clarity will also be a gift as you will no longer see every red flag through rose-colored glasses but exactly as they are keeping you safe and way from those who want to do harm or be toxic.

Pile lll:

What is preventing me from trusting others including myself? Tarot: The Fool, Three of Swords, Four of Swords, The Star, Ten of Swords.

Romantic Relationships. There are two songs that come to mind with you, pile lll and that's Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis and Fool for You by Cee-lo Green. You are a fool for love pile lll to the point you keep getting hurt over and over again and many of you lose sleep because of past partners always wondering who they are with, if they are coming home, if they are talking to other people. I can see you always by your phone hoping that they will call or text and when they don't you are disappointed because, in the back of your head, you have/had a feeling they are texting someone else, someone you believe might be "better" than you and a lot of you tolerate this for so long until you can't any longer. A few of you may have also been drawn to pile ll, if so there maybe something there for you as well even if it's just a sentence. Either way, Love has caused you to lose your trust in others and yourself because you are most likely a hopeless romantic. You are a lover of love and refuse to see or believe in anything other than just that. But I do feel that some of you are coming to your end of being a ride or die, a lover of love, and so forth because you are either tired of experiencing the pain or seeing on social media showcasing the many people out there treating their partners like crap and it's causing you anxiety that you will never find "the one" and you are doomed to be single forever.

How to begin trusting others again? Tarot: Same Cards

This isn't so much of how to begin trusting others again because with the fools card, you are always up for love again you are a lover of love but you are just coming to your end of being this type of person or even being the type where you feel a ride or die is admirable (depending how you view it, it's not). This is more so of a friend-to-friend chat, for those who find it admirable in being a ride-or-die when it comes to partners who aren't shit. That isn't a ride or die....you're just constantly dying because you are wasting so much of your life force worrying they are cheating, etc. Please know it is more admirable to leave than it is to look like a clown because you stuck with someone through "hard times." cheating is not hard times. Going through financial struggles is considered a hard time (only if you both are putting gin the work. If ou are doing the only leg work again this is not hard times or ride or die material). For those who want to give up on love keep pushing and stop listening or looking at social media. I know trust I kept getting weaponized incompetence videos of partners and etc but once I reset my algorithm and kept pressing not interested on videos and only looking at partners being loved and seen I began to have faith that there is real love out there and maybe it will happen for me too. Keep hanging on, you will find the person who will give you 100% and more to you. Have patience.

What good can come from trusting again? Oracle Cards: No Cards

This is more of an intuitive message but you will get everything and more that you want. If you want the house with the picket fence, dog, and kids, and loving husband you have it. Whatever it is that you want out of your love life it is yours for the taking you just need to be smarter about how you go about loving people. Be smarter in how you pour your energy into others as well. Again cheating and receiving poor treatment is not cute sticking around just to say "you held down your partner" because again that is not holding them down. Find the love that makes you feel seen, feel at ease, and worry-free, and pours just as much into you as you do them.

Pile lV:

What is preventing me from trusting others including myself? Tarot: Six of Cups, Nine of Pentacles, Six of Wands, Eight of Swords.

Childhood Wounds. Something happened in your childhood to where you didn't feel safe enough to be great, express yourself, or even feel as if you could make something of yourself financially. For some of you, you may have had that parent who told you they wanted to hold onto your money for you but then turn around and spend it. Whatever it is that caused you to lose trust during childhood it's deeply affecting your adulthood as if one wrong move and the worse is about to happen. You know how Chidi from The Good Place TV series (amazing show) would become so indecisive about a decision to the point it caused his death because it would debilitate him...I'm sensing that from this pile. I wish I knew what it was from childhood that caused you to feel as if you can't move on with your life and live it freely, abundantly, and so forth but again this is a general reading and also the energy feels like a shut door as if not even you like to open it. You may also suffer from remembering some of your childhood because it was so traumatizing. While you remember some of the bad times, other times that caused you to feel some type of way won't unlock itself except once in a blue moon.

How to begin trusting others again? Tarot: Same Cards

Facing your trauma head-on. If this isn't an option or you know that it wouldn't do any good remember that you are an adult and for those of you who aren't remember that you are your own person and you don't need any approval outside of yourself. Believe in the things that you set your mind to. If you believe you will and can be a billionaire don't tell those who do nothing but put you down...keep it to yourself and harvest that feeling so it can grow. Believe that you are capable of doing and being anything that you set your mind to. For some of you, this is more than a mental thing but more so having parents who think how you dress, look, act, etc is a phase, "of the devil", or whatnot. If you are an adult...please cut the cord and live for yourself. If you still live at home and are not an adult....this maybe a bit tricky as not everyone has the privilege to do as you please. Just remember who you are as a person and know that nothing is wrong with you. There is so much I can go on about but again that would be long and this is too much of a general reading for that.

What good can come from trusting again? Oracle Cards: Freedom, Peace, Lighten Your Load, & Beauty.

As mentioned some of you could have childhood wounds or could be currently going through it if you are still a child (under 18) where your family criticizes you for your style, weight, etc once you release your need for approval or even stop listening to the naysayers you will come into your own and fully embrace yourself relieving this load that you no longer have to listen or can tune out those who constantly put you down because of their own issues and problems with themselves Lastly of course freedom is something you will experience. You will have so much freedom you won't know what to do of once you release this wound or leave your childhood house.

Thank you to everyone who supports not only my Patreon but also my Etsy and Tumblr page. Much love and blessings to you all.

Stay Safe and Be Blessed :)

[dunmeshistash]

Does the monster inside Lycion wake up when he turns wolf-man, and does that mean he could potentially fight off succubi like Izutsumi? Just as important: I was wondering if that's why she's more wild, cuz the monster cat is always awake and alert and has opinions sometimes and that affects her mentally much more than it does Lycion.

I don't think they're "awake" in the sense of being conscious. I know the graph shows the beast "sleeping" inside him to show its dormant but I don't think that's literal like the beasts having a separate consciousness

I think it has an affect on them because because in beastform their physical bodies change and that might affect how they feel and perceive things, (we even see that somewhat with Chilchuck being more calm as a tallman), the soul probably affects their personality too but at least in Lycion's case he's still just Lycion in both forms? Here's what he says about beastmen's personality changes

I actually don't know if Lycion would have an advantage as beastmen against succubi like Izutsumi does, tbh I don't even fully understand how it works with Izutsumi, I think the succubi get confused by the mixed souls of beastmen, but unlike Izutsumi who isn't really "in touch" with her fully human side Lycion lives as a human most of the time, so I'd assume succubi aiming for his human side would have more of an effect on him even in werewolf form? But maybe in the beast side could help him resist somewhat? Unsure!

Another thing that makes me think the beast isn't really "activelly making them do things" or having a will is cause Izutsumi doesn't recognize and basically isn't affected by the succubi that aims for her beast side. So the cat soul isn't really "making her do" anything, both souls are "active" in beastmen form but I don't think there's differentiation between them to the extent of being separate wills, does that make any sense?

About Izutsumi being more "wild" I think it's because she has been a beastman for a longtime with no option to become fully human, and on top of that she has also been severely neglected and never socialized properly as a human. Even irl human children become "feral" when severely neglected/not socialized and Izutsumi being part beast would probably exacerbate that.

She basically has survived on mostly instincts for years and then they expected her to know how to behave in society just like that. Maizuru wasn't really the best teacher

So you have a child with the instincts of a cat who wasn't socialized properly until she turned 10 and then kept being mistreated and abused by people that tried to force her to "act properly" until she turns 17 and escapes. Idk how she would act like any other way in her situation.

[oh-no-its-bird]

You are making me EMOTIONAL thinking about baby kakashi losing his teeth and not having his dad around to ask about things now, not even specifically for fang reasons either 😭😭

I think I was late and lost my first took when I was almost seven and idk exactly when Sakumo died officially but. Idk. Something something the tragedy of potentially not even having a parent around to explain what is going on when you lose a tooth for the first time

I'm so glad u sent this actually bc I was thinking ab wanting to write a post ab this premise but wasn't sure how to phrase or start it

Kid Kakashi struggling through starting to lose his baby teeth after his father dies <33

Google tells me that children start losing their baby teeth around 6, and the general age I've seen for Kakashi when Sakumo kills himself is usually around that same number, so, it works out!!

You bring up such a good and fun point actually in just. Does Kakashi know what's happening to him? Has anyone explained to him that your teeth just naturally fall out when you're little?

One day, Kakashi goes to class and sees Obito, who's a few years older than him, bragging about how he "just lost my tooth the other day"

And Kakashi quietly goes to himself, "wow this guy is so bad at fighting, he got his tooth knocked out and he's happy about it. What a weirdo."

Obito is IGNORING the judgmental stares coming from Kakashi's direction, assuming Kakashi is just jealous of his super cool milestone of growing up

Thinking maybe Obito even comes over to try to brag about it, but Kakashi just goes "??? Why are you bragging about losing your teeth ??? God, you're such a freak"

And Obito is like, "I know ur just jealous BAKASHI. Because you are still a BABY while I am on my way to being a MAN"

And inside Kakashi, still deeply confused and weirded out, is like, 'why the fuck would I be jealous' but outloud he just glares and goes, "I've never lost any of my teeth because I never lose."

To which Obito loses his mind because he's like 9 and to a 9 year old that sounded kind of sick and how DARE Kakashi try and be cool about this

(In the background, Minato is well on his way to losing his mind trying not to laugh. Rin meanwhile is squinting and doing mental math as she tries to tell if Kakashi is joking or not)

But anyways like. Kakashi later losing his own teeth and freaking the fuck out about it. Is he sick? Is he dying? Should he go to the doctor?

Oh my god wait ok but Kakashi cornering Rin after a training session and demands she help diagnose him bc he doesn't want to go to the actual doctor or ask Sensei for help. And Kakashi admitting she's a "good med nin" and Rin is kinda going omg Kakashi conpliment,,,, life goals,,

But also like Kakashi thinks he's dying and she's SUPER flattered he thinks she can help but she's like. 10. And a med nin in training.

So she's kind of sweating like "omg what are ur symptoms, why do u think ur dying?"

And Kakashi is like my "fucking teeth are falling out !!!!!!"

And Rin is like "woah that sounds super scary and seriou— Hold on a second."

Kakashi goes as far as to take off his mask to show her, which goes to show how desperate he is rn because he'd usually never do that.

And Rin is torn between being tempted to pinch his cheek and pull at it like it's Mochi and also like. She's struggling SO hard not to laugh at this point because she knows if she does Kakashi will literally never forgive her

So Rin has to break it to Kakashi as gently as she can (and without laughing or cooing at his cute kid naivety) that don't worry, you aren't dying, this is normal

Kakashi doesn't believe her at first. But when he does he's suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment. He will never recover. Hes so fucking glad he didn't actually go to the doctor or to sensei because at least Rin he can swear to secrecy FOREVER

Kakashi has to deal with his suddenly too big for his mouth adult fangs and keeps going to Rin to help heal the cuts they keep leaving on his lips ,,,,

Somehow Obito catches wind of this, and hears "Rin + helping with Kakashi's lips (???)" And thinks they're kissing and loses his goddamn mind in spectacular fashion.

Toddler drama....

Idk where Im really going with this, it ended up taking a life of its own

Uhhh anyways. Moving this conversation entirely:

You can copy pasted this exact concept onto Naruto for a really funny (and kind of awful) au where Naruto loses his first tooth and becomes convinced he's dying

He does actually try to go to the hospital but they try to turn him away, but when he blurts out that he's scared he's dying a particularly mean spirited doctor pretends to examine him then goes "oh no. You really are dying and have a week to live. Boohoo."

Naruto loses his fucking mind and makes a "things I want to do before I die" bucket list and then spends the next week desperatley trying to complete it bc hes convinced he's gonna die on the final day

This list includes but is not limited to:

- become Hokage

- start a family

- eat every single different kind of ramen on Ichiraku's menu

Idk how to make the first and third especially funny but like.

"Starting a family" ending up somehow leading to Naruto very aggressively trying to get literally anyone to hold his hand in a similar fashion to "Uchiha Sasuke's 10 step plan to get revenge" where Sasuke tries to get Shikamaru to marry him in his quest to "live a good life" to get revenge on Itachi, while Naruto hears Sasuke is looking for a husband and very loudly tries to get him to pick him instead

Which is actually a really fucking funny one on its own and now I'm just thinking about that instead, so I'll leave this post here

I got a little distracted, but. Thank you for ur ask !!!